Dear God,
I cried out to you
in the night of darkest pitch
my soul it ached, it bled
no solace it deserved
and still, it is to you I cry
I scream, I rant,
I weep from my very soul
The fog is thick
The night is dark
there is no light
I cry out to you tonight
my head bent deep
with sorrow overwhelmed
there is no sound
the fog surrounds
snuffing out the candles light
the night is dark
pitch black it seems
is this to be
is this to be.
Penelope Shedrech
c. 2008
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